


they say dance for me

by thirteenohtwo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenohtwo/pseuds/thirteenohtwo
Summary: A masquerade, a heist, a lie, and a confession all walk into a ballroom.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 13
Kudos: 303





	they say dance for me

"-and she  _ has _ been looking at you all night, maybe-"

Beau's eyes widen as she approaches the two of them, Nott squawking as the monk's hand shoots out to cover her illusioned mouth. Nott glances up at Jester, and all noise immediately drops.

The whispering, chatty kathy's who have been hunched together all night are so very suddenly,  _ suspiciously _ quiet. And Jester doesn't like it, not one bit.

Maybe she wouldn't be as upset, as grumpy about it all as she is, if this was a one time thing. If it was just tonight that they were acting weird and she could blame it on the extravagant masquerade they were at, or the precarious heist they're trying to pull, or all of the officials and nobles they're surrounded by. But it isn't. She knows it isn't, because these two have been thick as thieves (pun intended, if all goes well tonight) for a month now.

Still, she adjusts the smile on her face to  _ blinding _ , and bounces to a stop just before them, making her skirts twirl. "Hi!"

Nott, who's having maybe the most fun tonight, does a very over the top curtsey in her sparkling dress. Jester isn't sure if it's the booze making her courageous or faith in Caleb's magic, but she's been skipping between partners all night while she cases the place. "Hello, miss Lavorre!"

"Jessie," Beau greets with a charming jut of her chin and a lazy grin, and the tiefling braces for the flying unicorns in her chest. 

It's maybe one of the reasons (besides Beau and Nott's cahoots) that she's kept her distance all night, that she's always found some excuse to check in with the others and not her best friend. Which isn't  _ really _ her fault! It's just… it's just something about Beau's suit that's making her dizzy! Something about the cut; all sharp lines and razor edges, clinging tight to the muscle beneath. Or maybe the gold and red against Beau's brown skin, maybe the swirl of colour is just messing with her eyes in this lighting. 

It's definitely one of those things or else's she's sick. Maybe she's sick? She's probably sick. 

All she knows for sure is that Nott and Caduceus are the only ones she doesn't feel breathless around tonight, and Beau makes her feel the dizziest of all. 

_ "Beauregard,"  _ she drawls in an attempt to cover up her momentary brain fart.

One of the monk's brows tick up over her dark intricate mask with intrigue. "Jester  _ Lavorre," _ she all but dips her voice in honey, and Jester's toes curl in her boots.

"Beauregard Lionette!"

"Lionette?" 

All three of them sort of freeze at the new, and not nearly distant enough voice, and all the playful pretense is gone. The schooled masks and practiced indifference that Jester has studied and learned to spot on Beau vanishes - for a  _ second _ , just a  _ second _ , Nott and Jester catch a glimpse of the raw reflection underneath all the bravado, underneath the stubborn, righteous edge in those blue eyes.

For a second, they see the colour drain from Beau's face and the steel in her eyes turn to brittle, cracked glass. For a second, in all the time they've travelled together… Beau looks scared.

And then she's gone in the crowd, in a move so smooth and so subtle, and so  _ stealthy _ that it makes Nott proud. 

Jester's brows pinch together but she clears her throat and raises her voice as someone  _ much _ less subtly shoulders closer to them. "Yes, I'm telling you, just the other day, I had tea with  _ Bernard Ninette, _ himself!" she gushes, exuberant.

Always quick on the schemes, Nott gasps and touches her cheeks. "Oh, you absolute scoundrel! I've been trying to book him for lunch for… gods, months now!" 

Their new friend - an overly average looking human man, seemingly loses interest and eventually shuffles away from them. Nott waits a few beats before she shrugs her shoulders. "Should we kill him?"

"Nott!" Jester reprimands. And taps her chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe." 

"I'm on it!"

"Maybe just find out who he is first!" she calls after the goblin and sends a prayer to the Traveller.

She and Nott have a very bad habit of accidentally killing people, after all.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"What do you like about girls, Yasha?" she asks as she leans against the stone railing of the balcony.

There's a rose garden of a maze down below, nothing too intricate, but it's lovely all the same. From their vantage point, she can see the stone fountain in the very middle, some black iron benches spotted around it. She thinks it might be nice to retire rich, after all their adventuring is said and done. Maybe Caduceus will help her make their very own rose maze behind the Xorhouse. 

Out the corner of her eye, she can see Yasha turn her head just so, just enough for mismatched eyes to glance at her curiously. She doesn't try to catch them, she knows Yasha still has trouble looking at them sometimes, that those wounds, those memories of trying to cut them down… they're still too fresh. Jester is patient, anyway, when it counts,  _ anyway _ , and she's just glad to have the barbarian back. 

There is something infinitely comforting being able to look up and see Yasha there in the corner, almost always. Tall, dark, and looming - but with the most gentle smile you might ever see. 

"The fact that they're not boys," Yasha says softly. Jester blinks and - there it is, there's that little shadow of a smile. "That was a joke. Why do you want to know?"

The tiefling shrugs and makes a scene out of looking up at the sky, puffing her cheeks like she's bored. Like this  _ isn't _ the fanciest party she's ever been to. Like she  _ isn't _ standing next to some kind of tragic storm guardian cut from marble in her suit, a wild Xhorhasian warrior hidden just beneath a filigree mask. "Just wondering, I guess! Like… like who at this party do you like? Who would you ask to dance?"

Yasha looks only mildly uncomfortable as Jester bounces, suddenly forgetting her ulterior motives with the distraction of her new game. "I don't know how to do this kind of dance," the barbarian says with a useless motion towards the glass doors and the ballroom inside.

They both watch a couple twirl by, Jester trying to squint at their feet. "I think only Caleb knows this kind of dance from his posh human days."

"Pre-hobo."

"Pre-hobo wizard, yes!" Jester giggles and bounces again, reaching out to grab Yasha's arm.

She misses the dusting of pink across pale, pale cheeks. "Well, and Beau."

The bells on Jester's horns jingle as her head whips up. "What? Did you see Beau dancing?!"

"No, I… uh, no," Yasha tells her slowly with furrowed brows. "I just heard her making fun of someone who wasn't dancing right, I guess. I assume that means she knows how." 

Jester nods a few times. Smooths down her dress as they stand there. "Yeah, that makes sense, sure." She glances around the small balcony again, before gasping and pointing back at the room. "Nice try distracting me! We still need to find you a dance partner. So? Who would you ask,  _ if _ you knew this dance?"

This time Yasha ducks her head, a curtain of loose hair and braids obscuring her face as she fiddles with her hands. "I guess I would ask you, Jester." 

"Pardon?" the tiefling perks up, lifting to her toes. Her blue hands grab Yasha's, leaning around until she can see her friend's face. 

And in that moment, that quick and silent breath between the beat of the music, Yasha isn't entirely sure who she sees in those purple eyes; Molly's mischief, Zuala's teasing, or Jester's compassion. Three interchangeable trails between them all, the very things that drew Yasha to them in the first place. 

She blinks and drops her hands, gives Jester a pat on the shoulder and a half smile with a little push towards the doors. "You should check on the others, I have to keep watch out here." 

"We'll find your dance partner, yet, Yasha!"

**.**

**.**

**.**

Fjord is, rather adorably, leaning forward enough to subconsciously swoop his head as he studies the footsteps of those dancing nearby the edge of the room. As she gets closer, she can even see his lips moving- silently counting steps as they go, and she wonders if Fjord  _ likes _ dancing. Wonders if he's thinking of asking her to dance, or someone else to dance, or! Or if he's wishing someone would ask him! 

"Do you want to dance, Fjord??" she almost shrieks in her haste to make sure he's having fun. 

But he wrenches his head back, straightening his posture so quickly he almost pulls himself off his feet, yellow eyes wide and embarrassed. The reassuring smile and cool shadow he slips on is seamless, and she's very impressed! "Ah, Jester! No, I was just… I've never seen this kind of dance before, I was just curious. You know, in case I have to distract one of the guests here, sweep them out into the middle of the dance floor."

"Oh, right, of course," she agrees and tries to keep the teasing lilt out of her voice. By the roll of his eyes, she knows she maybe wasn't too successful. "How do you like it?"

At his curiously raised eyebrow, she spins and spins until her dress skirts flare out, and lifts up her arms to showcase the whole room. He glances around again, a scrutinizing eye tracing the high ceiling, the grand split staircase at one end, and the many, many windows and doors to balconies. "I think some people have too much money."

"There's no such thing!" Jester gasps.

"As someone who's had to learn to live without it, I disagree."

"As someone who knows  _ just _ how much you can do with money,  _ I _ disagree with  _ you!" _ Jester insists. "You just haven't met the right rich people. You should see some of lives momma has changed with her donations and fundings!" 

Seemingly considering this, Fjord relents. At least, a little. "I suppose that's fair. But this seems… excessive."

"That's why we don't feel bad alleviating them of their  _ so lawfully acquired  _ family heirloom that has no real tie to  _ this _ family!" 

He nods his head once, a smirk made all the more charming by his tusks. "Also true." 

"Speaking of," she slides closer to lower her voice, "has Caleb or Caduceus actually found the magic vault yet?" 

"Silent on my end. How about you?"

"Too silent!"

"Yasha?"

Jester flings her hand towards the balconies. "Still keeping watch over our exit strategy. Has Beau checked in with you?"

Again, Fjord nods. "Yup. Apparently, the guard stick to their posts, for the most part. There are only three who actually move on a patrol around the ballroom. Plus the four down each individual hall branching from here. Nott?"

"Spiked one of the buffet tables, I'm pretty sure," Jester giggles. "Hard to say, sometimes I see her but mostly I don't, but that's the point. Do you know where Beau went last?" 

"She's lingering near Caduceus' halls in case he needs help taking down a guard silently," he tells her with the smallest hint of a frown. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course!"

They watch each other for a few more beats before he looks away. "You seem… tense."

"I have a hypothetical question, Fjord," Jester decides, hands on her hips. He blinks. "I have this friend… who also has a friend, and my friend's friend is avoiding my friend, and my friend doesn't know why, because they're best friends, and best friends shouldn't avoid each other! Unless one best friend left the other best friend to die - but not  _ really _ , it's just that my friend had to rescue her  _ other _ friend, so that her  _ other _ friend could help revive her friend in case a bad situation got worse! So she  _ told _ her friend this but it turns out her friend was totally unconscious anyway and didn't even  _ know _ that she left her to fight instead of saving her, but  _ now! _ Fjord,  _ now _ my friend is worried her friend  _ is _ upset that she was left unconscious, and dying, and in super danger, because she knows now." 

Very much looking like he sucked on a sour lemon, Fjord tries to process the word vomit coming from the tiefling. The longer he does, the more his head tilts, until he squints and is… fairly certain he understands. "Uh, okay. Right. I think - I think your friend needs to talk to  _ her _ friend about this, about her fears and anxieties, because ignoring things and hoping they get better never works. However, from what I know about your friend's friend, I don't think she would ever hold that kind of thing against her friend.  _ Especially _ not  _ this _ friend, she's very… gentle with this friend, I've noticed."

"... it's Beau."

"Yes, I got that," Fjord says and chuckles, shaking his head. "Jester, I don't think Beau is upset with you  _ or _ upset how that fight went. Not only did we all leave, but the chain is intact,  _ and _ we got Yasha back. That was a thorough win for us."

Jester ducks her head. "She was dying, Fjord."

"I know."

His rough, serious voice isn't something that Jester particularly likes. "I should have healed her."

"You blocked the stairs for her-"

"I don't want her to hate me!"

"She loves you!" he huffs and grabs her shoulders. Shakes her lightly until she finally looks at him. "Jester. Beau loves you. Talk to her.  _ If _ she's avoiding you, and I'm not even certain she is, then there is a reason that is  _ not _ a punishment."

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jester has to drop her face into her palm to stifle her laugh when she spots Caduceus back on the dance floor and looking so very confused. Unlike Fjord, Caleb, Beau, and  _ especially _ Yasha, the suit Caduceus wears hangs off his body almost baggily. He looks the most out of place here with his pink hair and pale fur, even if he adjusted his height so he's not  _ quite _ as tall. Cities and balls and the elite are really  _ not _ his scene, and Jester feels kind of bad that they dragged him here. 

He's always so deceptively put together, she sometimes forgets how far from and how different his home is. 

Those big pink eyes light up when he spots her, a slow smile stretching across his face as he opens his arms to catch her flying hug. "I'm all turned around in here," she feels more than hears him say. "I hope Caleb is having better luck than I am."

"You're doing a very good job, Caduceus," Jester makes sure to tell him. She rests her chin on his chest as they sway at the edge of the room, not quite dancing but not quite not dancing. "Are you having fun?"

"I ate a grape that turned out to not be a grape and I'm a little worried it wasn't even fruit."

Her brows furrow but she can't help the delight in her face. "I hope it was."

"Me too." She feels his chest expand, listens to his big lungs pull in air and then let it out in a deep sigh. "Are you alright?"

"I'm anxious."

"I know."

"Of course you do." Jester turns her head so she can rest her cheek on his chest instead, and hugs him tighter. "Have you ever told yourself a lie? A super secret but very good lie, so good that you didn't even realize you were telling yourself it?"

It takes a minute for the answer but Jester has learned how to wait for their wise firbolg, that good things come to those who wait. His words are always worth the effort, she finds. "No."

Well, usually.

He hums, a soft rumble that's wildly comforting in the moment and for a second she forgets where they are, what they're doing. It's just the two of them - just a couple of healers trying their best to make their gods proud and keep their friends safe. She wonders if it weighs just as heavily on his shoulders as it does hers. "I find it very difficult to lie to myself, as often as I try." Jester looks up quickly, surprise flitting across her face. "Sometimes… sometimes life gets too scary. Even after all we've seen, it isn't the gooey, slimy, tentacle monsters that keep me up at night. I've never known a deeper horror than  _ what if?" _

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Is it the truth?"

"Yes." Jester blinks and searches his eyes for… she's not sure what. Surprise, impatience, a knowing look? Whatever it is, she doesn't find it, and she's not sure if she wanted to anyway. The unicorns take flight in her chest again and she can feel the heat unfurl in her cheeks, knows she's a warm indigo right now. "I like Beau a whole lot. Like… a  _ whole lot. _ How I thought I liked Fjord, and maybe even more than that."

"I see," he murmurs thoughtfully. "That can be very scary."

"Of course it can! What if she doesn't like me back, Caduceus? What if it makes her uncomfortable that I do? What if she pulls away from me even more? What if she already knows?? What if she  _ does _ like me but then I mess it up? What if I'm not good at kissing? What if I break her heart or she breaks mine or, oh, Traveller, what if she  _ dies?!" _

Caduceus tightens his grip on her until he's more or less just hugging her again. "Those are a lot of what ifs."

"I think I prefer the lie."

"Do you?"

Another moment passes between them, enough for the current song to end and a new one to build up. She huffs and maybe stomps her foot just a little. "No…!"

His smile ticks up again. "You know there's only one way to get rid of those what ifs."

"Yeah…"

"Are you going to go talk to her?"

_ "Now?!" _ Jester squeaks. Her bottom lip juts out, pulling back to put her hands on her hips. "Are you??"

"I don't have to talk to Beau." The confusion on his face melts to happiness again, his eyes crinkling softly. "Not that I don't enjoy it immensely, she's very nice to talk to. She has a lot of interesting opinions."

"I meant Fjord."

Caduceus stares at her.

A blue eyebrow bumps up as Jester turns to look down the hall. "Next time you make tea, ask the pot if it ever calls the kettle black." 

And with that, she leaves him in his surprised delight.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"I'm looking for the bath- oh." Jester stops struggling in Beau's arms, lowering her voice as she's dragged into… a closet? Of some kind? "Beau, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing?! Jessie-" her whispers are sharp and struggling to actually be quiet as the two are pressed together in the dark, cramped space. Beau takes a moment to calm herself, letting out a ragged sigh that puffs Jester's bangs. "What are you doing down here? You're not supposed to be down here! Did something go wrong in there?"

The tiefling rolls her eyes. She tries to lift her hand to make a motion, to animate her frustration, but her knuckles smack against the opposite wall beside Beau and she ends up dropping her palm on the monk's hip instead. "Everything is  _ fine _ , Beau. Relax.  _ You're _ not supposed to be down here either, you're supposed to stay by Caduceus' halls to help him."

"First of all," Beau starts and Jester can feel her hip cock out, can  _ feel _ the attitude, and can't help but smile already. She sees Beau's lips twitch up at the corner with her own smirk. "I'm an Expositor, I do what I want. Second of all, Caduceus wandered back to the ballroom. He's not finding this vault and if anyone stops him, it's not like he even has to pretend he's lost. They'll just send him back to the ballroom if he's not there anyway. Thirdly-"

"There's a third?"

"Oh, there's a third!"

"What's the third?"

"The third. You couldn't handle the third. I'll let you off with a stern two," Beau tells her, matter-of-factly. She blinks and looks down towards their feet, almost headbutting Jester's mouth in the process. "Are you wearing heels?"

"Boots but yeah, it's a  _ ball _ , Beau," Jester replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Haven't you ever been to a ball?"

"Unfortunately. But I hid under the tables the whole time."

"Then you should have gotten a better view of the shoes than most."

The human snorts and Beau playfully glares back up at Jester. "Sure, just blow past that open invitation to discussing my childhood."

"Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, just everything. It's fine, whatever," Beau waves her off and looks away dismissively as Jester's mask melts into something more genuine. "Why did you come down here?"

Right. She almost forgot.

Why  _ did  _ she come down here, what made her think this was actually a good idea? 

Jester adjusts, accidentally squeezes the hand on Beau's hip - and Beau's arm kinda just  _ shoots _ up, her elbow rammed against the wall beside Jester's head as her eyes widen. "Shit, sorry. Kinda ticklish. I - hey, no, don't even think about it," she warns as the tiefling's eyebrows wobble. "Jes, I  _ will _ headbutt you if you tickle me and you don't wanna find out if I can stunning strike with my face." 

"Can you?!"

"My whole body is a weapon."

She can't help it. Not really. Not when Beau is being so… so Beau, so thoughtlessly suave.

Jester glances down, she eyes the cut of the suit and how many buttons Beau skipped (or, more accurately, just the two in the middle she actually did up. Any excuse to expose her abs, it seems). Her eyes catch sight of the pale scar that peeks out from the shirt and coat, stopping  _ just _ above her belly button from the Skin Gorger. Absently, Jester's tail winds itself around Beau's leg, the need to know  _ she's still here, she lived, she's okay _ on a baser, physical level. 

Blue fingers brush against that scar, just enough for Beau to shiver, for goosebumps to rise in the brow skin. "Did it hurt?"

She's not sure why she's asking.

"... Not sure. I hurt a lot, most of the time." 

Purple collides with blue, Jester tilts her head as Beau swallows roughly. "Were you scared?"

This time she nods. "Yeah." Her other hand comes up - they both have to move, to wiggle just a bit, until Jester's hips press against hers, and they're crooked in the closet. But Beau's scarred hand cups Jester's cheek so gently, so softly that Jester's eyes sting and she still doesn't know why, exactly. "I was really fuckin' scared I wouldn't be able to get you out of there, Jester."

"I-"

Their foreheads knock together, the monk chuckling softly as she watches the indignation in Jester's eyes sizzle. "If it's your job to heal me then it's my job to keep you safe enough to do it." 

Jester's eyes flutter closed. "You're very stubborn."

"The next time Caduceus makes tea, you should ask him if the pot ever calls-"

"I love you like maybe definitely more than a friend, Beau, and I really wanna kiss you and I don't want you to avoid me anymore because you're my best friend and I miss you so much and I really like being near you, please, please, please say you wanna kiss me too-"

She feels - maybe, actually. She thinks. Perhaps. Maybe she feels Beau's lips against hers; a whisper of a brush against her own, but then light is spilling into the darkness.

The closet door is wrenched open so quickly that not even Beau has time to catch them. Her hands let go of Jester and scratch against the doorframe, her eyes big and wide and surprised as she sinks back into the open air of the hallway. Jester's tail, still around Beau's thigh, is yanked hard enough that she follows with a yelp, and then they're both ejected from the teeny, tiny closet.

"Oof!" she gasps as she lands on Beau. Her hands are splayed against Beau's chest and the blush that works up her neck is  _ powerful _ , thankfully Beau's eyes are too dizzy to notice as her head bounces off the marble floor. "Beau!"

"Shitballs!" the monk crows and reaches for the back of her head as she hisses, squeezing her eyes shut. "What the fuck?"

Straddling her best friend and maybe new makeout partner, Jester  _ scowls _ up at the shocked looking guard above them. She jabs her finger up at him accusingly, watching him flinch. "Yeah! What the fuck?! What are you doing?"

"Th-this part of the manor is off-"

"Oh, you have  _ got _ to be kidding me!" Jester snaps loudly. She makes sure to bounce, waving her hand (wincing when Beau grunts) to keep his attention on her as an equally wide eyed Caleb slides along the opposite wall, back towards the ballroom with one hand in his coat breast pocket, the other giving a thumbs up. "What, you think your boss is going to care that we walked five feet down this hall just to have sex?! You think that matters more than the concussion you just gave to a  _ Monk of the Cobalt Soul?! _ "

"Expositor…" Beau groans and blinks a few times, braced up on her elbow as she gingerly touches the back of her head.

The guard visibly pales. "Oh gods. Oh gods, I'm so sorry. I am  _ so _ sorry, I didn't mean to! I was just trying to keep people in the ballroom! We're - you're not supposed to be down here! This is-"

"Off. Limits. You said," Jester repeats heatedly. She flings her hand down the hall towards the opposite end of where Caleb is. "Are you honestly not running to get ice right now? Is there a healer nearby? Do you want me to get  _ off _ this woman who could literally kill you with her pinky finger?"

He stumbles forwards. "No! No, please! I-I'll find, I'll-"

"Yeah, you do that! We'll be in the ballroom when you find some ice and your best apology!" Jester all but shrieks down the hall at him while he runs. She waits until he turns the corner before leaning down, both hands reaching behind Beau's head to check for blood. "Shit, Beau! Are you okay? Do you need healing?"

"I have a crush on you."

There's no bleeding, so that's good. But Jester is pretty sure she can feel a bump already coming in, and just because she's not bleeding on the outside doesn't mean she isn't bleeding on the inside. It probably wouldn't hurt to spend some magic.

Her fingers glow a faint green, the familiar tingle of her magic flowing through her hands, until she's certain Beau is definitely okay. They're still glowing when she suddenly sits back on Beau's lap, dumbfounded as the monk's words catch up to her, letting Beau's head slip through her fingers.

It bounces off the floor much softer this time and Beau blinks again. "Ow, fuck! Did you hear me, Jes?" she asks and sits up, one hand on the tiefling's back and the other on the back of her own head again. "I have-"

"A crush on me." Jester nods slowly. Her brows slowly furrow, suspicion colouring the purple. "You're not just saying that?"

"Well, I am saying that, yes."

"Beau!"

"Sorry, sorry!" she teases with a playful grin. "You're bouncing my head off the floor like a ball, makes it hard to think." Her cheeks darken while Jester just watches her until she finally shrugs. "I really, really like you, Jester. As a friend and so much more."

"Don't avoid me next time then!" Jester croaks with a watery voice and tears in her eyes, punching Beau in the shoulder. 

The monk grunts again. "Ow! Fuck! I need - a damn doctor - just  _ kiss me _ , Jes, I'm all bruises here!"

So Jester does, right there in the middle of their heist, in the middle of some fancy manor belonging to some stuffy noble, with dozens and dozens of strangers just down the hall. 

Jester kisses the smile right from Beau's face. Kisses her long after the guard comes stumbling back and awkwardly shuffles his feet. Kisses Beau until Nott's voice squawks in her head to tell them they need to run. Kisses Beau until the what ifs melt away…

Jester kisses Beau like she wishes she'd been doing all along.


End file.
